My Body Knew

How I found my way to this work.

I spent over a year fighting with my body. Cravings I couldn’t explain. Habits I couldn’t control. For someone who had lost 60 pounds and kept it off for over a decade, this was bewildering. I tracked everything. I adjusted everything. Nothing worked.

What I didn’t understand yet was that my body wasn’t confused. It was trying to tell me something I wasn’t ready to hear.

Here’s what was happening underneath: I had spent months trying to convince myself that I wanted a career I didn’t actually want. All the training, all the experts, all the influencers said the same thing: if you want to be taken seriously as a coach, work with executives. Corporate clients. The C-suite. Leadership pipelines. That’s the gold standard.

So I followed along. I finished my training, logged my hours, passed my certification exam. And then — nothing. I couldn’t make myself move forward. I wrote. I watched fascinating videos of sheep shearing. And I fought with my body.

Because my body knew what I hadn’t admitted yet.

The moment of clarity came when a generous, well-meaning coach sat down to help me map my corporate strategy — the packages, the programs, the four gala charity events a year. Buy a table. And I felt something that I can only describe as panic rising in my chest.

That panic was information.

I finally stopped listening to the noise and listened to myself instead. What I heard was this: I want to work with women who are standing in a doorway between their old life and their new one. Women in transition — chosen or not, welcome or not. I want to be a transitional coach.

And transitions come in every size. Divorce. Retirement. Widowhood. An empty nest. A diagnosis that changes everything. But also: your youngest starting first grade and suddenly the house is quiet and you don’t know what to do with yourself. Doing for years what you thought you should be doing — and waking up one day wondering what you actually want. Those count too. Every one of them.

These are the women I want to walk alongside, asking together: Who am I now? How do I let go of who I was and find the courage to walk through that door?

The moment I said that out loud, to myself, to a friend, to my husband, something released. The cravings stopped. The restlessness stopped. My body and I were friends again.

It had been waiting for me to catch up.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, because the women I most want to work with are often in a version of the same experience. A body that’s changing and feels unfamiliar. An outer life that is shifting faster than the inner one can keep up. A self that’s trying to tell them something — if only they could slow down enough to listen.

Maybe your body is trying to tell you something too. My body knew. And now I know, too.

If any of this resonates — if you’re in a transition of your own, big or small, chosen or not — I’d love to hear about it. What is your life trying to tell you right now? And if you want to talk, I’m here. Just send me a message.

Ruth Bergman is an ICF-credentialed coach (ACC) based in Farmington Hills, Michigan. She completed her coach training through Act Leadership Coaching – Brown University School of Professional Studies and holds the Associate Certified Coach credential from the International Coaching Federation. She works one-on-one with women navigating life transitions: chosen and unchosen, expected and unexpected.

Before coaching, Ruth spent over 30 years as an adult educator and organizational leader, including seven years as Director of Education at the Zekelman Holocaust Center. She holds a BA in English Literature from Barnard College/Columbia University.

Ruth has been married to Rabbi Aaron Bergman for more than 37 years and is the mother of four adult daughters. She lives in Farmington Hills with her husband and a very opinionated cat named George.